(l to r) Max Levy, 18, Julia Rowe, 18 and Brandon Ramey, 18 prepare food in the kitchen on Wednesday, May 7, 2008 at the residence for dancer's at San Francisco Ballet School's trainee program, as well as for advance students.
Photo By Lea Suzuki/ San Francisco Chronicle

James Shee, 18, (left) watches as Graham Maverick, 19, (right) slips on some socks on the bus after running to catch it to get to his morning class on Wednesday, May 7, 2008. Photo By Lea Suzuki/ San Francisco Chronicle

Photo: Lea Suzuki

James Shee, 18, (left) watches as Graham Maverick, 19, (right)...

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Jean-Yves Esquerre (right), Training Program Supervisor of San Francisco Ballet, works with students, James Shee (left), 18 and Sylvie Rood (center), 17, during rehearsal for "Simple Symphony" in the Lew Christensen Studio A at the San Francisco Ballet School on Wednesday, May 7, 2008.
Photo By Lea Suzuki/ San Francisco Chronicle

Photo: Lea Suzuki

Jean-Yves Esquerre (right), Training Program Supervisor of San...

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Dancers rehearse "Simple Symphony" in Lew Christensen Studio A at the San Francisco Ballet School on Wednesday, May 7, 2008.
Photo By Lea Suzuki/ San Francisco Chronicle

There's a well-kept multistory building in Pacific Heights that could easily be mistaken for one of the many comfortable family homes that loom along the blocks overlooking the bay. But Jackson Manor, as the house has been fondly dubbed, isn't your average Pac Heights mansion. Once owned as part of an off-campus, urban program for Westmont College, it's now in its fifth year as an official residence for dancers in the San Francisco Ballet School's trainee program, as well as advanced students.

As any artist knows, the road to professional success isn't easy. For many of the youngsters who win the opportunity to train at San Francisco Ballet's School, the pursuit of a career in the notoriously competitive world of ballet means sacrificing, not only time and energy, but family life as well. Students come from across the country and around the world to study at the school, but for a young dancer of perhaps 16 or 17, the task of finding a place to live in San Francisco is no trivial matter.

"For a long time, it was catch as catch can," says Jim Sohm, the school's administrative manager, who notes that for years the school had struggled to help students find housing. Not only was he uneasy about under-18 kids trying to find apartments on their own, but when rents began to skyrocket, he says, "I considered it kind of a moral imperative to help them."

Serendipity dropped a solution into the school's lap. In the midst of "Nutcracker" rehearsals in 2002, a developer contacted the Ballet with an unusual proposal. He was about to purchase a property in Pacific Heights with a specific conditional-use variance: It could be used for dormitory-style housing for a not-for-profit school. Would the Ballet be interested in leasing it? According to Sohm, it took a consultation over coffee and a few quick calculations to come to a "yes."

During the day, while the trainees and other students are at classes and rehearsals, the house is relatively quiet, and for the most part it could be mistaken for any well-kept dorm or hostel but for a few telltale signs: a roll of pointe shoe elastic by the mailboxes, photographs of dancers on the walls, and a large, homemade latch-hook rug with the San Francisco Ballet logo on it.

"It's usually a mad rush early in the morning," says Pete Ippel, the on-site residence manager since 2003 when the house welcomed its first students.

The trainees, a special hand-picked subset of advanced students, take on an especially intense schedule, starting with the basic morning class that is the breakfast of every ballet dancer around the world. During the Ballet season, many of them might also rehearse with the company and dance in larger productions, like "The Nutcracker" and "Giselle." This year, they had the chance to work with world-renowned choreographer John Neumeier on his "Yondering," which the students performed at the company's opening gala in January. Right now, though, efforts are firmly focused on the forthcoming Student Showcase, which will feature half a dozen pieces including a reprise of "Yondering" as well as Artistic Director Helgi Tomasson's "Simple Symphony."

"We're trying to bridge the gap from student to professional life," says trainee Rebecca Rhodes, who hails from Chicago. "But this is such a good experience, it makes you ready for anything, how to handle your schedule and time."

"This was the only way I could come, was if I could stay at Jackson house," continues Rhodes, who will become an apprentice next year with San Francisco Ballet.

"Plus there's a milk machine - I have to mention the milk machine," he adds with a grin.

"It's a definite selling point of the house," chimes in Rhodes.

In the spacious kitchen a few students are fixing breakfast for themselves. Each resident does his or her own grocery shopping, and in the enormous commercial refrigerators, space is meted out in plastic bins labeled with each student's name. There are signs of a few gourmets in the house: The pantry, which also boasts an individual cubby for each person, is packed not only with staples like cereals and bread, but also balsamic vinegar and baking supplies.

A birthday calendar and a sign welcoming visitors to Jackson Manor hang in the hallway. Ippel glances at the wall, then pokes his head back into the kitchen.

Students at the San Francisco Ballet School start the day off at the dancer's residence with a quick meal before catching MUNI to their class and rehearsal for the Student Showcase. The San Francisco Ballet School's Student Showcase runs from May 14-17 at

Media: San Francisco Chronicle

"Hey, Avalon! Happy birthday!"

In a lounge in the back of the house, controllers for a PlayStation and an Xbox nestle in a tangle of wires in front of a 52-inch flat screen TV. Ippel checks the grill on the back patio and, noticing a blackened crust on the rack, remarks, "They've been roasting marshmallows and making s'mores again."

There are few officially organized activities or parties, although the kids themselves organize impromptu basketball games. But if the idea of evenings of basketball, tie-dyeing, Wii and toasting marshmallows sounds idyllic, the kids at Jackson Manor are also, for the most part, a highly directed, fiercely motivated group.

"When kids get to a place where they're transitioning into a school like this," Sohm says, "they're driven, they're focused. They come here to succeed and they don't want things to get in their way."

"There's not a lot of 'Mom'-ing and 'Dad'-ing here," Ippel agrees. Still, he and the staff are there to help them not only acclimate to house life but also create a comfortable community for the dancers to come home to.

"You can never predict illness or injury or teenage ... choices," says Ippel with a rueful pause. "The job is constantly changing. But the biggest part is being empathetic. We're the liaison between the kids and schools, parents, teachers, etc., so a lot of it is basically listening to them and helping make sure that people are moving forward."

The students pay roughly $7,500-$8,500 a year to live at Jackson Manor - a fantastic deal for a furnished room in San Francisco. But that covers less than half of the $477,000-a-year cost of operating the house, which the Ballet purchased in 2006 for $3.5 million. One might wonder if it's a worthwhile investment for a ballet company whose budget this year is about $42 million, but Sohm points out that in just five years, nearly a score of former members of the "household" have gone on to dance with the company.

"Bottom line, we're trying to attract the highest quality dancers to the school, and this enables us to bring them here," Sohm says. "My vote? The house is a tremendous value to the organization."

"Where you live changes people," observes Ippel, who says of the house simply, "This is a home for them."